


different masks

by diazpizzaz



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Cutting, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, PTSD, Self-Harm, please read at your own risk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 12:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17642546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diazpizzaz/pseuds/diazpizzaz
Summary: Rosa Diaz- tough, stoic, leather-jacket wearing badass. But there’s more to that, right?





	different masks

Rosa enters the precinct with its usual buzz and chatter. She puts her motorcycle helmet in her locker and proceeds to remove her leather jack- _shit_ , _when_ _was_ _the_ _last_ _time_ _I_ _cut?_ , she thinks worriedly. She looked around to see if no one was watching and checked the cuts on her wrist. _Fuck_ _shit_ _fuckfuckfuckfuck_ , she saw fresh cuts, threatening to bleed and some older scars, fragmented memories of not so long ago. She tries to remember when she gave herself these cuts, but failed. _Fuck_ _it_ , she shrugs and puts her leather jacket, as she approaches the bullpen, earning puzzled looks.

 

“What?”, Rosa growls.

 

“Diaz, it’s mid-summer, why are you wearing a leather jacket?”, quizzed Santiago. It wasn’t a nonchalant and teasing sort of question, it was one of genuine confusion.

 

Rosa looked around the bullpen, and saw majority of the squad wearing thin t-shirts. Terry even dropped the suspenders. She glared at Amy.

 

“None of your damn business.”, she said.

 

With that, the squad retreated to their desks and left Rosa with a raging war inside her brain. _Nice_ _one_ , _Diaz_. _You’re_ _here_ _wishing_ _for_ _someone_ _to_ _notice_ _you_ _when_ _all_ _you_ _do_ _is_ _push_ _people_ _away_. _You’re_ _a_ _freak_ , _Rosa_. _You_ _don’t_ _deserve_ _this_. You don’t deserve love or anything good. She tried to push these thoughts away, mentally screaming for that voice to shut up and leave her alone. _Bleeding_ _wrists_ , _Rosa_ , _bleeding_ _wrists_. The voice kept taunting. She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt hot tears sting her eyes. Wow, what a wimp, crying on the job.

 

“Rosa, are you okay?” She opened her eyes to see Jake, concern etched on his face. Her cheek felt damp, _fuck_ _Jake_ _saw_ _you_ _crying_ _like_ _a_ _dweeb_ , _an_ _ugly_ , _selfish_ , _dweeb_. She felt another wave of tears coming, and bit her lip to prevent it from flowing.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”, she said shakily.

 

“Uh, okay, um, I just need you to sign this report.”

 

She signed it and told Jake to leave her alone for a second.

 

“Rosa, why are you crying?”

 

“SHUT UP JAKE!”, Rosa stormed out of the bullpen. She went down the stairs and ran out of the precinct. She was vulnerable in front of her colleagues, her biggest fear ever. She realized she left her things inside. She walked hastily to her apartment, eyes blurred with tears as she looked for her keys inside her pocket and collapsed on the couch. She stayed there frozen, with tears trickling down, for about 20 minutes. Rosa removed her boots and went to the bathroom.

 

She looked at her reflection in the mirror and cursed at herself. “Fuck you, Diaz. You cried in front of your friends, they’re all probably judging you by now. You’re such a baby, Rosa. You are a disgrace to your family. You’re an embarrassment, you’re a-“, Rosa couldn’t finish her sentence as she was now breaking down, sobbing on her bathroom floor. She got her Swiss Knife from her leather jacket, removed the jacket, and started cutting her wrists aggressively.

 

“YOU *cut* FILTHY *cut* SCUMBAG *cut*”, she roared in pain. Her wrists were now bleeding and she was crying like a big dumb baby. Then, she heard knocking

 

“ROSA! OPEN UP!”, she heard Amy say. She was so stupid. Her colleagues knew where she lived. They were probably gonna come in and end their friendship because of her stupid stupid self. This thought earned more sobs from Rosa, and more cuts. There was blood on the floor now.

 

“ROSA! WE’RE COMING IN!”, Boyle said. _BOYLE_? _THE_ _WHOLE_ _SQUAD_ _IS_ _HERE_? _It’s_ _your_ _fault_ , _Rosa_. _You_ _made_ _a_ _scene_ _like_ _a_ _big_ , _dumb_ , _crying_ _baby_. She closed the bathroom door and locked herself in.

 

“Diaz, we know you’re in here.”, Holt said with his usual monotone voice.

 

“Geroutofhere”, she said with heaving sobs.

 

“Rosa? Where are you?”, Amy’s concerned voice rang out through the apartment.

 

“I think she’s at the bathroom.”, said Jake. She heard footsteps approach the locked door and they desperately tried to pick the lock, meanwhile Rosa was hunched over, wincing from the pain of her wrist.

 

“Bingpot!”, cried Charles. They all entered the small bathroom and to say they’re surprised by what they saw would be an understatement. Amy was the first one in, and they all took in the vulnerable figure of Rosa. Mascara streaks running down, mixed with fresh tears. What surprised them the most was the bloody knife, with blood on the floor and on her left and right wrists.

 

“Rosa?”, Amy’s voice broke.

 

“Escort Diaz to the living room while Boyle and I find a first aid kit.”, Holt quickly ordered with usual tone except there was a hint of concern ringing through it.

 

Jake, Amy, and Terry (although Terry did most of the work) carried Rosa and plopped her on the couch. Rosa’s silent throughout all this, with tears running down her cheek. She hears Amy’s supressed sobs, Jake rubbing circles on Rosa’s back. Boyle and Holt walk in the room, with bandages and antiseptant. Holt grabs Rosa’s wrist, making the latter wince.

 

“Sorry.”, Holt said.

 

He carefully applied the antiseptant, dabbing it with a cloth. He then proceeded to wrap her wrist with bandages. Rosa was still crying throughout the whole ordeal, but silently. When he was done, they all moved an inch away from Rosa. She felt all their eyes on her, waiting for her to say or do something. Amy approached her, and enveloped her into a bear hug. Rosa, to the surprise of everyone, hugged back. Before she knew it, the whole squad hugged her, and when they pulled away, they all looked at her. Rosa put her face up and when she met Jake’s concerned eyes, a sob escaped her lips.

 

She was fully breaking down now, with the little voice going berserk inside her brain. _Stupid_ _bitch_ , _vulnerable_ _asshole_ , _just_ _stop and push them away, l_ _ike you always do_.

 

“STOP!!”, she screamed while pulling her hair. _Stop_ _that_ , _Diaz_. _The_ _squad_ _will_ _think_ _you’re_ _a_ _crazy_ _person_. _Oopsie_ , _my_ _bad_ , _you_ _are_ _a_ _crazy_ _person_. _You_ _sick_ _son_ _of_ _a_ \- Her thoughts were interrupted by Jake putting an arm around her, whispering comforting words into her ear. After a few minutes, she stopped crying and was now ready to talk. _Or_ _maybe_ _you_ _aren’t_ , _you’re_ _never_ _going_ _to_ _make_ _them_ _understand_ _anyways_. _Stupid_   _bitch_ ,   _better_ _off_ _dead_.

 

“Rosa?”, asked Amy tentatively and softly, but it was enough to shut the voice up.

 

She took a deep breath, and started talking.

 

“I was diagnosed with PTSD after prison. It was tough. The excuses I made about going to the doctor and all that crap were lies. I was seeing a therapist. Along with the PTSD came the depression. It wasn’t like this by then but I took pills for it. Eventually I came around with the PTSD and believed that the depression ended too, so I flushed my pills down the toilet. I never took them since.”

 

Jake cleared his throat, “But uh, why-, how-, this!”, gesturing to her wrists.

 

“I’m getting there. So since I flushed my pills down, I never really thought about them anymore. That is, until I-“, she stopped speaking as she felt a lump forming in her throat. She swallowed it and continued. “Until I came out to my parents and did not accept me. It felt like I was all alone, and I know I’m not, but I’m such a selfish freak and an insolent-“,

 

“Diaz.”, Holt cut her off before she started spiraling.

 

“Sorry. There’s this voice inside of my head. It’s uh-“, she stops as her throat is raspy and she felt a lump form again. She let out some shaky breaths but calmed down when she felt Jake’s comforting hands rub circles around her back. “It tells me shit. About how I’m not good enough for anyone, or like this like that. It’s screaming at me right now.”

 

“Is that why you were, erm, screaming a few moments ago?”, inquired Charles. 

 

“Yes.”

 

“Rosa, I think you need to see a therapist.”, suggested Holt with a softer tone.

 

“Yeah.”, agreed Amy with a timid voice.

 

Rosa bit her lip, maybe they were right. Maybe it’s time to go see a therapist.

 

“I’ll try. Where’s Gina?”, she asked.

 

“She took the weekend off. Spent time with Iggy.”, said Boyle.

 

“I see.” Rosa kept quiet for what seemed like hours. She stared at her cuts and the voice went berserk again. _Stupid ass bitch, cutting and cutting and cutting. All you feel is pain. You’re pathetic._

 

 _“_ Diaz, I will give you the rest of the day off. We will leave for now but please do not hesitate to call us if you need assistance. And please for the love of God, do not cut.”

 

Rosa looked down at her feet and gave the slightest of nods. After exchanging tearful (in Boyle’s case) goodbye’s, Rosa was left in her apartment alone. She gave the smallest of smiles, and promised herself that tomorrow, she’ll see a therapist.

 

For her and the nine-nine.

**Author's Note:**

> to all those who are suffering from depression, you are not alone! please do not hesitate to call or see a therapist if it gets worse. suicide is never the answer, alright? i’ve been there. anyway, hope you enjoyed this little angsty story.


End file.
